The Ghost of The Noble Six
by ClusiveC
Summary: Noble Six survived Reach. The story doesn't end on a barren landscape, burned to glass. The story doesn't end with a team of Elites. But that was just step one. The war is still going on, and there's no time to look back. There is a new battlefield. A strange ring that has an ancient evil hidden within it. And Six is ready.
1. Chapter 1

**The Ghost of Noble Six.**

**Part One.**

* * *

_I clung to my mother's leg, closing my eyes tight. Tear drops fell down the side of my cheek, blending in with the constant rainfall from above. We moved in line with everyone else, boarding the civilian evac transport. Lightning strikes flashed in the background, illuminating the ruins of Elysium city. The city was a hell. Covenant ships glassed Elysium and the air reeked of dead corpses. Over a hundred innocent people were in the line behind us._

_"Mom, i'm scared!" I cried out, holding onto her, afraid to let go. She placed her hand on my head and bent down to kiss me on the forehead._

_"It's going to be alright, baby. You just have to be brave." She said reassuringly. I didn't want to be brave. I didn't want to leave home._

_The line up the stairs into the evac transport moved slowly. Overcrowded. A flight attendant was ushering people inside. From where we stood, I could see that the inside of it was packed. A gust of wind pushed my wild black hair into my face, obscuring my vision. I shook it off. Me and mama were next to go in._

_"I'm sorry ma'am, but we're full. We can't take anymore!" The flight attendant yelled over the sound of the intense storm. The line behind us erupted into a chaotic riot, demanding for entrance into the last evac ship. People were shoving, pushing, going crazy. _

_Mama begged the flight attendant to let us on, but he wouldn't. He said that he was sorry and that there wasn't any more room. Then mama begged for him to take me._

_"No!" I yelled._

* * *

I woke up inside the cramped cryotube, my eyes immediately adjusting to the light inside the cryobay. All of my senses came back to me instantly as I came out of the frozen state. The tube hissed as it cracked open slowly, and the HUD inside my helmet came to life. Everything was a bright silvery color. The walls. The floor. The ceiling. Just as I remembered it back when I first fell into the deep slumber of cryo sleep. A red light on the ceiling was flashing brilliantly, pasting the room with a light red color. I flexed my hands and legs.

"Sorry 'bout the sudden thaw, Lieutenant, but we don't have much time. We need you up and going." I heard a voice say over the loudspeakers inside the room. Young. Smart. Scared. I looked up into the control room and saw a navy crewman on the control table, speaking into a microphone. The crewman looked no more than 20 years old.

The cryotube opened all the way, and hot air rushed inside the cold interior of it. The newly fitted MJOLNIR R variant, or Recon, was a major upgrade from the armor that I was used to, and always kept a standard interior temperature. I grabbed the sides of the cryotube and hauled myself out, making a loud _thump_ on the floor as I stepped down. My muscles slowly gained their strength, the result of being frozen inside a cryotube for so long. I flexed them, scanning the cryobay. All of the cryotubes were closed and empty, save for one that held the wounded Spartan II sniper.

"The Captain needs to see you on the bridge, Six." I looked up into the control room.

"What's going on?"

"We're under attack. Covenant boarding craft, lots of them." The crewman said. "We don't have much time before shit goes to hell."

I nodded towards him, and turned, heading for the opened exit door. I glanced over my shoulder once, wondering whether or not to ask about the spartan II. No time. I moved to the exit, quickly. As I stepped into the hall, the ship shuddered and shook, and I had to brace myself on the wall to keep from falling. A small fire was flickering alone inside the hall, and the panel coverings on the wall were blown off and destroyed. A dead ODST lay in the center of the room in a pool of dark blood. An MA5B assault rifle rested on the floor beside the ODST, slightly smeared with dried blood. I waited for the ship to stop shaking, and then I walked over to the ODST and picked up the assault rifle. There were no clips for it, and the ammo counter read 47 rounds remaining. Enough to get me to the bridge. I took the time to grab the dogtags off of the ODST, another set for the collection, along with Jorge, Kat, and Emile. I read it and put it away.

Up ahead, the hallway branched off in several directions. I wasn't familiar with the layout of the ship, at all, so I read the signs on the walls, following the arrows as they directed me to where I needed to be. Left. Right. Keep straight. I moved down several hallways, but hadn't came across a fight yet. Just a bunch of dead ODST's and marines, and jackals and grunts. Up ahead was the clinic. There was gunfire, both Covenant and UNSC. The radar picked up multiple tags, friendly and enemy. I moved quickly, rounding a corner and aiming the assault rifle.

There was a team of marines defending the clinic from a group of jackals and an elite. The jackals had their shields overlapped, creating a nearly impenetrable phalanx. An elite major was behind them with a plasma repeater, firing over their heads. They hadn't seen me, their attention completely focused on the marines. I fired in 3 round bursts, nailing the Covenant troops from their right flank. Blood splattered and one of the jackals collapsed to the floor, clutching its throat where the bullets had hit. The ammo counter dropped to 38. The elite major growled and turned its attention to me, shooting a hail of hot plasma in my direction. I evaded, diving and rolling across the floor. Blue plasma marked the wall just behind where I'd been standing.

Rising back to my feet, I was already firing and moving, strafing to the right. The elite's energy shields flickered but held. One of the marines lobbed a frag grenade, tossing it towards the jackals. It bounced off of the shields, unable to get behind them. I moved forward, still firing at the elite as the grenade exploded.. The concussion knocked the jackals back, causing them to lose their balance. The energy shield on the elite finally flickered away and died, leaving it vulnerable. A mist of purple blood ruptured from it, pasting the walls and floor. It fell to its knees, fired a final plasma round, and died. 17 rounds left in the assault rifle. The jackals were hit by a volley of bullets from the marines, unable to withstand the firepower without their formation. A pile of dead Covenant troopers was all that remained.

"Thanks for the help, sir." One of the marines spoke up. The friend-or-foe tag on the radar registered her as Sgt. Ayla Moore. She looked over her shoulder at the clinic. Wounded crewmen and marines were inside, and the medics were having a hard time. She looked back at me. "We could use a hand here, if you can help out. We need to get the wounded off of the ship."

"I don't have the time. But I'll let the Captain know." I told her. A look of disappointment flashed across her face for a split second, but then she nodded.

I thought for a moment, and then left, heading down the long hallway leading to the bridge. Normally, I would've gotten some ammo from those marines. But they needed it more than I did. The bridge was close by, now. I could hear distant gunfire echoing off of the walls, making the entire ship sound like a battlefield. The ammuniton reader on my HUD had a blinking number 17, letting me know that the weapon was nearly out of ammunition. My shields had drained a little from the heat of the plasma repeater rounds that nearly hit me in the chest.

I crossed a hallway, in the center of a firefight between some ODST's and Covenant, keeping my head low and running for the entrance to the bridge. A few random plasma bolts struck me in the side, picking off at my shields. The team of ODST's were pushing the Covenant troops back. I stepped into the bridge, past a guard of three marines. Navy personnel were manning their stations, mashing buttons on their keyboards and calling out strings of information. They were focused. Only one of them even noticed me when I entered. I glanced down at the assault rifle, still marked with the dried blood of the ODST that I'd gotten it from, and slung it onto my back. Walking towards the front of the bridge, I spotted another spartan right away. Nearly as big as Jorge. It was the Master Chief, listening to Captain Keyes. They both glanced in my direction, noticing me approach.

"Noble Six, good to see you. What's your status, son?" Captain Keyes spoke, chewing on a pipe.

"Green, sir." I said, snapping a crisp salute.

"At ease." Keyes said, looking at a holo display of a circular ring. He pointed to it with his pipe. "We've stumbled across this. I don't know what it is, but we're going to have to use it for an escape. We're in no shape to fight the Covenant."

An AI appeared on a pedestal next to Keyes. The avatar was a blue female, with lines of coding running across it. She looked at me.

"Good to see you again, Six." The AI said. I was puzzled. For a moment, the AI didn't ring any bells. But then, I remembered. Carter and Emile were both dead, trying to get me and the AI to the Pillar of Autumn.

"Likewise." I said.

They gave me the rundown of the situation. Most of it, I'd already thought of earlier. I knew that we were within orbit of something, because of what the marine Sargeant had told me. But I had no idea that the ring was what she'd been talking about. Covenant were surrounding us on all sides, firing lasers and torpedoes at the ship. That explained the violent lurch back when I was leaving the cryobay. For a moment, I wondered if the cryobay crewman had managed to get away safely.

"Chief, you need to get Cortana safely off of this ship. Don't let her fall into enemy hands, at any and all costs. If they get a hold of her data, the Covenant will know _everything._ Weapons research. Force deployment. Black ops insertions." Keyes said, his face set and determined. "_Earth_"

"I understand." The Master Chief said. On my hud, the number 117 hovered above him.

"Six, I want you to aid the marines. Get as many of them off the ship as possible." He said. Then added, "And make sure that you get back to the cryobay and retrieve 058." Keyes told me. He was referring to the sniper. I nodded. Then he looked back at me and the Chief.

"You don't have much time. I'm going to try and land this ship itself onto the ring." He was about to turn away, when John spoke up.

"I need a weapon." He said.

"And I need ammo." I said, as well.

"You're going to have to find that as you go. Good luck, spartans." Keyes told us, and then he turned away, facing the viewport.


	2. Chapter II

**The Ghost of Noble Six**

**Part Two**

* * *

I was back at the clinic, holding off a wave of Covenant while the marines were getting the wounded to a nearby lifepod. The hallway was wide and open, and a small group of grunts were pressing forward. I fired at them in 3 round bursts, tagging the grunts with a storm of rounds. Blood splattered and marked the walls and floors, the remains of the advancing grunts. A pair of jackals fired back at me, a volley of plasma striking the wall right beside me. A round struck me in the chest, draining the shields down to 77%. They were unable to get off clear shots as I continued the burst fire. Bullets crashed into the shields that the jackals carried, forcing them to fall back. I primed a frag grenade and hurled it at them. It bounced off of the ground and exploded right in front of the jackals. The concussion from the blast sent them flying into the bulkhead, their bones broken, killing them instantly.

I kept my weapon raised and moved forward slowly. It was clear for the moment, but I needed to make sure. The radar was clean, no tags at all. The marines should almost be done with the wounded, but we couldn't afford to let any Covenant get back there.

There was a slip-up on the radar, a slight flash of red, down the hall to the right. I paused for a moment, squeezing the assault rifle slightly harder. I was caught off guard, charged by an enemy. An elite leapt out from the hallway on the right and I managed to fire off 5 rounds before it tackled me. The blow knocked the air out of my lungs and I lost the assault rifle as we crashed into the floor. We rolled on the ground, struggling for control. It felt like I was wrestling a monster from a kids story. The elite was powerful, deadly, like a creature that was built to kill. I hit it in the rib area with my fist three times, but it only made the elite angrier. The beast growled, a scary and haunting sound, and slammed me into the floor. It felt like I'd fallen out of a skyscraper and landed on my back. My energy shields crackled and drained to 42% charged.

It swung at me with it's fist, desperately trying to hammer my head in. I covered up, like a boxer, and my arms took the brunt of the damage. The hits sent a strong vibration from my hands all the way up to my shoulder, and I felt lucky that the armor was taking most of the damage. I brought my knees up to my chest and kicked out as hard as I could, a direct blow on the elite's center mass. It staggered back, creating the space that I needed, and I stood up, reaching for my sidearm. The elite looked massive, like a brute almost. It's crimson colored armor was like a representation of all the blood that it had spilled over the years. It growled again, a sound filled with rage and hatred.

I rapid-fired the pistol non stop, aiming for the head. It's shields gave away and it's head erupted in a spray of bluish liquid. It collapsed to the floor in a heap, a loud thud as it hit the floor. I was happy to put an end to that senseless growling. The assault rifle was next to the elite, and I walked over and picked it up. My shields slowly recharged, the bar filling up completely, and I was thankful for it. Footsteps approached from behind and I picked up on the yellow FoF tag on my radar. I turned and faced Sgt. Ayla Moore. She glanced past me at the dead Covenant troops before speaking.

"We're done loading the wounded, but we need to find another lifepod." Her crystal green eyes looked into my visor. I ran a quick calculation through my head. Time was running out. I wasn't sure if I had the time to help these marines find a way off the ship, because I still needed to retrieve Linda. The nearest pods were on B level. The rest were already gone. It would take some time to move there.

"Okay. We need to get moving." I could tell that she was relieved. I would've been too. Fighting Covenant meant an entirely different thing to marines, than it did to spartans.

We moved back to the clinic where the rest of her squad was. As we rounded the corner to the clinic, I saw only 4 marines there. There should at least be 10. I imagined that they were scared to death. So many had been lost in such a short time. Even this ship would be gone soon. And the only avenue of escape was a ring. Ayla signaled for the marines to fall in behind her. I noticed that their hands were shaking slightly, something that a normal person wouldn't have picked up on. I raised my hand up, signaling for them to stay behind me.

"Let's go."

* * *

We went up a staircase, getting onto B level, where a few pods remained. On the way, we'd come across a team of ODST's. They didn't like the idea of following a spartan, but they didn't have much of a choice. I was there best bet for survival. We went forward, down a wide hallway that had the aftermaths of a battle lingering in it. There was blood, painting the floor in a sea of red and blue and other odd colors. Like a group of kids had gotten together and splattered colors all over the floor. The sight was all too familiar.

We turned down the launch pod hall, my footsteps noticeably sharper than the others. We moved cautiously but quickly. Only one lifepod remained on this level. It sat there by itself, waiting to be used. There wasn't enough space on it for all of the marines to get on. With the team of ODST's, plus the squad of marines, one of them would have to be left behind. There wasn't much time. The ship was taking a beating. Plasma torpedoes and lasers were smacking the hull, shuddering the entire ship.

"Someone has to stay." I told them. I could see the looks on their faces, uncertain, confused, scared. They spoke to each other, trying to decide who would have to stay. None of the ODST's would, that was clear. They barged into the pod immediately. The marines were still coming up with a solution. I didn't have time to wait for an answer.

As I turned to leave them, I felt a hand on my arm. "Wait." It was Sgt. Ayla. "I'll stay with you. You're going to need some help."

I ran a calculation through my mind. She would slow me down. I'd be having to make sure that she doesn't die. I wasn't sure I could keep an eye on her. I needed to move fast to make it to the cryobay. But there weren't any seats left on the pod, and a marine would easily die if they had to stand in one of those things.

_A Snag..._

"Let's go."

I started at a jogging pace, stepping lightly across the floor. Outside the large window, I could see streaks of plasma criss crossing the blackness of space. The laser strikes almost looked like a lightning show, blazing a brilliant bluish white color. It reminded me of days back when I was in school. The overpopulation because of the number of planets lost to the Covenant forced the school to set up rows of classes in trailers, outside of the main building. I used to love looking out the window when it was storming.

The ship shook as another blast hit it. I nearly lost balance in the violent vibrations. Ayla had to put her hand on the wall to prevent herself from falling. I needed to take the quickest route to the cryobay, which was through the center of B level. Covenant activity would pick up there. A firefight would be inevitable. Covenant casualities would also be inevitable. We moved towards the center of the ship. The belly of the beast. Blood smeared the walls. It looked like something a kid would do if they were given paint and a canvas. The hallway was opening up to B Level's cafeteria. I stuck to the right of the hall and raised my assault rifle. I didn't want to be caught slipping like earlier. That elite almost killed me. Almost.

I pressed my back into the wall and crept to the entrance of the cafeteria. Ayla was behind me. I peeked in for a brief second. An elite spec ops team, four of them in total, were inside. They were clearing space for something. A large, round shaped object was being pulled into the middle of the cafeteria by one of the elites. There were spikes covering the object on all sides. Four spec ops elites, some of their best warriors. This wouldn't be easy. But then again, it never was. I took a mental snap shot of the scene in my mind and dissected it.

I turned to Ayla and snapped off a few quick hand gestures. She grabbed a frag grenade from her utility belt and primed it. I did the same. In my head, I counted down from 5. Inside the cafeteria, there was a sharp scraping sound as the elite dragged the large object across the floor. _4... _There was a low grumble coming from one of the elites. It sounded like a laugh. _3... _I re-ran what I would do on a screen in my head. It was like a movie being played out inside my mind. A trick I'd learned as a young kid. _2... _The ship rumbled lightly, like a beast being roused from a deep slumber. I didn't count to one. That number didn't matter.

"Go!" I lurched off of the wall and rushed inside the cafeteria. I lobbed the grenade right at the two elites that were furthest away, standing exactly where they'd been on my mental snap shot. Ayla came in behind me and threw a grenade at the elite dragging the spikey object. Rushing to the right side of the room, I fired my assault rifle in a sustained burst at an elite standing alone in the far corner. The energy shield shimmered brightly from the hail of bullets, making the elite appear as if it glowed. They howled in surpise. The grenade I threw bounced off of the floor in between the two elites in back. They both rolled out of the way, but they still took a brunt of damage. The grenade exploded and blasted their shields, the concussion from it spanning through the room in an invisible wave. The other grenade landed beside the elite dragging the spiked object and blew up. It was a bright flash of yellow and white.

The elite I was firing at sprang into motion, moving fast. It fired plasma at me as I strafed to the right. Blue plasma bolts smacked the wall behind me, barely missing my left shoulder. In my peripheral vision, I saw Ayla taking cover behind a table resting on its side. She opened fire on the two elites who'd evaded my grenade. In the center of the room, the elite that had been dragging the spiked thing was laying on the floor, it's legs broken and covered in blood. I rushed forward and charged at the elite that was shooting at me. I wanted to get close to it. The other two elites would see that their comrade was in deep shit. I would be drawing the attention, but the two elites wouldn't be able to fire at me like they'd want to. They would never fire at one of their 'brothers'. It would force them to rush over to engage me at close quarters as well. They didn't want to lose another ally, like the dead one lying in the center of the room. Lives mattered to elites. Especially in a spec ops squad. I knew the feeling. My entire squad had been taken out on Reach. They couldn't do anything about the corpse lying on the floor, but they could prevent me from killing their other comrade.

But they didn't have anything to worry about. I wasn't going to kill the elite. I was going to break it's leg and maime it, tricking the elites into thinking they should stay and protect their disabled ally. By the time they'd make it over their, I would've already fallen back, leaving a little something to remember me by. A frag grenade.

I slid across a table, catching a plasma bolt in my chest. It knocked the breathe out of me and dropped my shields to 80% charged. Firing at the elite, I sprinted across the room, catching another pair of plasma rounds. The elite's shield died, leaving it exposed. Without slowing down, I crashed into it's legs and we fell to the floor. I could hear the sound of its bones splitting from the impact. Music to my ears. We slid across the floor and slammed against the wall. I hauled myself up as fast as I could, reaching for another frag grenade. But before I could catch it, I was hit in the back, hard. I'd underestimated the spec ops elites. One of them slammed me into the wall and pinned me against it, growling in my face. I brought my knee up, with all of my strength behind it, and hit the elite. It's shields collapsed.

I headbutted it this time, throwing as much force into it as I could. The blow snapped the elites head back, nearly breaking it's neck. It yelled in a rage of agony and pain. The elite got stronger somehow, and I felt an icey chill cruise through my spine. Like an ice cube running down my back. It shouted again and slammed me into the wall once more. My energy shields failed, reading 0%. Black dots began to creep into my vision and my eyesight got slightly blurry. Pain raced through my bones. It slammed me again and I felt it throughout my entire body.

A hail of gunfire nailed the elite, blood erupting from it. Ayla was shooting it. It's grip on me loosened and I took advantage of it, breaking free from it. I snatched the plasma pistol attached to the elite's armor and kicked it in the chest. It tripped over a flipped table and collapsed to the ground in a heap, dead. I let out a deep breathe and heard another yell. The last elite. It whipped out an energy sword and charged me, slapping chairs out of the way like toys. I raised the plasma pistol and fired several rounds at it. They splashed into it's armor but didn't break the energy shield. The elite was trucking through the cafeteria like a brute gone beserk. I fired at it again, finally disabling it's energy shield. The elite didn't slow down and cleared the distance between us.

I rolled out of the way, barely dodging the energy blade. It slashed the wall where I'd been standing a split second earlier, leaving a deep gash in the hull. I got back to my feet, just in time to catch a kick in my chest. The elite was fast as hell. It knocked me against the wall, like before. My chest felt like it'd been hammered over and over. It was about to slice me in half. I looked up to see the elite swinging the energy sword in a vicious arc. Right before it hit me, the elite got slammed by a wave of gunfire from Ayla. It staggered backwards, grabbing its side where it'd been shot. A flurry of bullets hit it in the head, sending it straight to the floor. I watched, breathing heavily, as it twitched. The last remnants of life escaped from its body.

I leaned against the wall, shaking with adrenaline and fear. My body felt like it'd been tossed around carelessly. My lungs burned every time I took a breathe and my legs felt a bit wobbly. I blinked rapidly to clear my vision. A set of marks and scars littered my newest set of armor. That had been too close. I would've been dead, no doubt. Elites weren't like other Covenant troops. They couldn't be predicted. And the more you hurt them, the angrier they got. The angrier they got, the more dangerous they were. I wondered if the Master Chief was having a difficult time like me. I shook my head slightly, regaining my focus. I had a job to do.

"They nearly got you there." I heard Ayla say. She was right. She saved me twice.

"Nearly isn't good enough."

I stood back up and holstered the plasma pistol. I had to admit it, Ayla was brave. There was no way in hell I would barge into a room with four elites, if I were a marine regular. Planet Reach and that time spent inside the cryo tube had dulled my effectiveness. I hadn't thought we'd be caught up in a situation like this so soon after we'd left Reach. I wanted to get some rest. I was the last man standing from Noble team. John and I were probably the only spartans left standing in total. I'd let these thoughts cloud my head. That was a fatal mistake that nearly got me killed. It wouldn't happen again. I looked back at Ayla. She couldn't see my face, but it seemed like she could. Her eyes seemed as if they were looking through my visor.

"Let's go." I told her.

Not much further to go before we reached the cryo bay. And then the home stretch. But that wasn't guaranteed. We had no idea what that ring was. It could be worse down there than it was up here. I would have to regroup with the Master Chief on the surface and look for survivors.


	3. Chapter III

**The Ghost of The Noble Six**

**Chapter III**

* * *

Training to become a Spartan III had been far from simple. It was the most grueling experience of my life, and still is. I had to do that training at a very young age. It depended on how well you could adapt and survive. That was the entire length of training. Adapting and surviving. Those who couldn't were left behind, some of them even died. I had almost gotten left behind as well. But I didn't. I willed myself to push on. Everlasting runs, endless sit ups, sleep deprivation, I had endured all of it. They moved me out of my class, and I never saw any of those who had endured it with me again. Except for Kat. From my perspective, it seemed as if all that training hadn't prepared us enough for what was going on now. About 300 of us in total had been in Beta Company. As far as I know, I'm the last man standing from that 300. I haven't seen any other spartan from that group, other than Kat. Training only goes so far. It's personal instinct that takes you further. That's what I'd relied on to get me through that training. It's what I'm relying on now. The spiked thing that the elites had been guarding was some type of bomb. It would have detonated if we hadn't come across it. I didn't know if it was pure luck or just simple chance that we'd found it. Either way, it wasn't a threat anymore. Those elites weren't either.

We turned down a narrow hallway leading to the cryobay and I picked up a small collection of FOE tags on my radar. A team of grunts were trying to get into it. They spotted us and started shrieking in their foreign language. A barrage of plasma fire rocketed down the hall and I ducked. Plasma marks scored the walls and the floor. I aimed and fired my assault rifle, hugging the left side of the hallway. Ayla clung to the right side, making herself a small target. Blood erupted from the grunts and plasma shots went wild. My ammo counter was draining fast, and the grunts were dropping fast. The last grunt was aiming a charged plasma pistol shot, and I fired at it. Bullets slammed into it's chest, spewing sickly colored blood and killing it, but it fired the plasma round.

I watched as the fat blob of plasma streaked down the hall. It crashed into Ayla, a center mass shot. She collapsed to the floor, unmoving. A large plasma burn marked her chest. I rushed over and lifted her from the floor, cradling her in my hands. Dark blood leaked from her mouth. She looked at me, fear in her eyes.

"I don't want to die..." I faintly heard from her lips. A quick slash of pain tripped my chest. I watched as the life slowly left her eyes, and her body became limp. There was nothing I could do. I lowered her to the floor gently, and took her dog tags. Another pair of dog tags. The UNSC had lost another hero.

Too many dead heroes and counting.

The ship shook lightly, urging me on. I stood up and left her without looking back. Up ahead, the door to the cryobay had been weakened considerably by the grunts. Black burn spots inked the entrance. I kicked the door as hard as I could and it snapped out, flying into the cryo room. It slid across the floor with a loud shriek before finally coming to a halt. Inside, the room looked different. It was like walking through a graveyard. All of the cryotubes had been shut down to preserve power, killing it's inhabitants, except for the one with Linda. I slid the assault rifle onto my back and walked through the room, looking into the cryotubes. So many UNSC personnel, wasted. There hadn't been enough time to thaw out everybody. I felt a chill splinter its way through my body, like an ice cube sliding down my back. This could have been my fate. This was war. And war is hell.

I reached Linda's tube. The 'window' of it was frosted slightly. A Spartan II clad in MJOLNIR armor lay inside of it, still and quiet. The nameplate on the armor read Linda-058. The status bar on the side of the tube was white. She was in bad shape, definitely. I touched the cryotube with my hand. So much time spent inside of those things. That was the only life I knew. Warfare and sleeping in cryotubes. Linda was the same as me. This war had a heavy price on it, and humanity has been paying it since it first started. I was a part of the equation. Just a small cog in a much larger machine that was starting to lose power. That's what I am. A small piece, fitting snuggly into place, being packed in tight with all the others. This spartan inside the cryotube was one as well. I needed to figure out how to get off the ship.

Taking my hand off of the cryotube, I tapped a series of buttons on the keypad next to it. The pod crackled and hissed, opening up slowly. Cool air rushed out of it and mixed in the air of the bay. With the frosted window out of the way, I could clearly see the spartan inside of it. Her armor was cracked and marked with heavy plasma rounds. The result of years of combat. I could see my reflection in the visor of the helmet. An average height spartan stood staring back at me, my reflection. It had been a while since I last saw myself in full gear, and for the first time in my life, it felt as though this look was what I was meant to look like. A soldier fully clad in armor. So much time spent inside of it.

Gathering up all of my strength, I reached inside and lifted Linda. I put my foot on the cryotube and used it to help me pull her out of the pod. I picked up the heavy spartan and took a step back from the cryotube. This was the first time I'd held another spartan since the day Kat was killed. Cradling Linda in my arms, I walked across the cryo bay and stepped back out into the hall. It was like emerging from a dark void and stepping into a safe haven. My radar hadn't picked up anything, and I figured that most of the action had passed over this area of the ship a while ago, save for the team of grunts who'd been trying to get inside the cryobay. I walked back down the hall the way I came, my foot steps like loud claps from being overencumbered. I swallowed hard as I stepped past Ayla. Her lifeless body lay in the same position as I'd left it. Continuing onward, I trudged my way to the nearest lifepod.

The scene reminded me of a memory from my childhood. Every so often, I would remember random things from the past. This thing was something that happened back when I was still an elementary student. I remember having to walk home from school in the heavy rain with my sister. Mom was at work and didn't have anybody to come pick us up. I have a hard time remembering my sister, but I do remember that she was younger than me and looked like mom. On that day, my sister had sprang her ankle badly and couldn't walk. With no other option, I'd been forced to carry her in the same fashion as I was currently carrying Linda. It's hard to remember, but I recall not being annoyed at having to carry her. She was my younger sister and I'd quickly suggested lifting her to the house. That was how I spent a lot of my childhood, with my small family and not many friends. Then, one day, my sister was going to visit our grandparents out of town, and I wasn't able to go because of trouble at school. I'd gotten into a fight. My sister rode off with our grandparents, heading away from our house. That was the last time I ever saw her. A day after they left, the planet got attacked by Covenant, and I was shipped offworld by myself in the nick of time. I haven't seen anyone from my family since, and I have no idea if any of them are alive.

There was a slip up on my radar and I stopped instantly, naturally moving off to the side of the hallway. It was coming from up ahead. A large group of 7 red dots moved slowly across my radar. They would pass by in front of us. I slipped into a small storage room on the side of the hallway, cringing at the sound of the doors sliding open. They might have heard that. The red dots were getting closer, nearly on the same hall as us. I slowly bent down on one knee and rested Linda onto the floor. Then I peeked out of the room, just barely, and rested my hand on my sidearm. I watched closely as a mixed team of elites and jackals walked past. They looked deadly, hefting vicious plasma weapons at the ready. My heartbeat tapped a little faster. If they came down the hall in our direction, we would be spotted. I immediately ran a calculation through my mind of what I'd do if that happened. They were moving slowly and cautiously, but they didn't come down the hall. They continued forward. The jackals were making loud chittering noises, sounding like a creature that was bent on killing. But they wouldn't be killing me.

The squad went out of sight, and I waited until all of the enemy tags disappeared off of my radar. I reached over and gathered my strength again to pick Linda up. Her arm hung loosely. Stepping back out into the hall, I pressed forward. I took a quick peek around the corner to see if the covenant squad was out of range, and they were. _Good. _ My arms began to give off the faintest signs of fatigue at carrying the spartan, but I ignored it. The ship jumped rigorously and I nearly fell with Linda. I'd barely managed to catch my balance. Every single bang was the reminder that time was winding down. Keyes would be going head first into the ring very soon. Either that, or the ship would be destroyed completely. Neither was a good thing. And Linda and I were still on board.

I rounded another corner and felt a huge wave of relief. A single lifepod sat dormant in the long hall. Every single one of them were gone except for that lone one. It rested peacefully in its spot. I double checked my radar and looked around in all directions before I stepped onto it. The home stretch was the most dangerous part of any mission. Countless lives had been lost in that final effort. Jorge. Emile. Kat. All of them had died being so close to the main goal.

But I knew that this was a job done succesfully. _Not 100%, _I thought as my mind went back to the marine. It wasn't good, but I couldn't help the sense that I'd made a big mistake in allowing Ayla to die. If I'd been stronger, nobody would have lost their life. It was a job done, but not done good enough. I shut the doors to the lifepod and carefully placed Linda into one of the seats, and secured her in tightly. Being a pilot, I knew the control layout of the lifepod. I hopped into the pilot's seat and got to work, starting up the lifepod. Controls were green. Engine power was at 97%. Good. I slowly turned the thrust of the ship up to maximum degree, counted to three, and disengaged the lifepod from the ship. It jerked forward hard and shot out into black space, gaining speed at a fast rate. I sat there and tapped a few more buttons and swiveled around in the seat for a moment.

Looking back at the _Pillar of Autumn, _I could see the damage that it'd sustained. All of those bumps that I'd felt were plasma torpedoes and other weapons hitting it. Parts of the ship were blown out and it looked sickly. Like a ghost ship. Somewhere up there was Captain Keyes. The ship was filled with casualties from both Covenant and UNSC. It was like a floating graveyard. I turned back towards the control panel and switched on the auto pilot mode and turned back around. Looking around, I found a pair of medkits bolted to the hull of the lifepod. I needed to see if there was any way I could help Linda. Taking one last look at the ship, I felt a bone chilling coolness sweep through me. Less than a few hours ago, I'd been asleep on it. Now it was a hulk of destroyed metal floating through space. That was the last time that I would ever step foot on that ship.

Glancing out the main viewport, I looked down at my next battlefield. A hard crash landing and a new world awaited me. There was no escape from the threat of death. I shook my head and turned back towards Linda. There wasn't much I could do with the limited items of the medkit. So I decided to take the time to think and wait. Waiting for the next rough road that was inevitable to come. I couldn't stand it.


	4. Chapter IV

Note: I would've gotten this chapter out sooner, but my sister uses the computer as well.

I'm going to put the Chapter 5 out shortly after this one, because I want to split this scene into two chapters, instead of having a big fat one.

Thank you for reading.

**The Ghost of Noble Six**

**Chapter IV**

_Raise the rebel from his grave._

* * *

They say that all plans go to hell when the first shot is fired. It's an old saying that I've known about for a long time. It originated centuries ago, and still floats around to this day. Humanity has been waging war over its entire history. Countless operations have proved this quote to be highly accurate. There was a planned mission to take out a Covenant Supercarrier during the Fall of Reach. If I'd known better at the time, and operated properly, then Jorge wouldn't have died on that ship. That plan turned into turmoil when we first landed on the Covenant frigate. At the time, I couldn't explain it, but I could feel the danger that we were stepping in. I knew something bad was about to happen, and it had scared the hell out of me, but I didn't know what it was. I remember that moment clearly, stepping out of the Sabre and planting my feet on the hull of the ship. It felt like I was walking into a crypt of dead. We lost our ship as well on that mission. We lost a bunch of marines onboard that ship. And we lost one of the legendary Spartan II's. Only to have an even larger Covenant fleet jump in system shortly after.

War is hell.

Right now, my entire body felt as if it'd been sent to hell, toured the entire place, and sent back. The crash landing was anything but smooth. My bones felt wobbly and my chest burned. There was a low _whoooop _sound as my shields slowly recharged. Locking my armor had prevented a lot of damage, but I still felt the effects. Outside the pod, I could see a clear blue sky above, occasionally tacked with clouds. Large trees loomed above, towering over the ground below, casting a cool shade over everything beneath. Bushes and shrubs stood firmly next to the larger trees. A soft whisper of wind rustled the vegetation, making everything shiver. The place looked peaceful. It looked like my homeworld. For a brief moment, I lay there, watching the quiet bliss of this unknown ring.

Then, I shook my head slightly and unhooked myself from the pilot seat. I stretched as I stood up and equipped my assault rifle. An unknown world could hold unknown hostiles. So I walked out of the pod and did a quick scan. A large structure was the first thing that I saw. It was very close to the pod, and I wondered how close we'd come to hitting it. I hadn't even noticed it when we were falling. It was gigantic, standing at least a kilometer high. The structure looked smooth and shiny, and I immediately registered it as not being natural. It was too straight, too precise, too rigid. A long ramp on the side that I could see led up to a large balcony that ran around the object completely. This was some kind of station. The balcony covered everything in a 360 degree radius, surrounding the unusual building. The structure itself was triangular in shape, and looked... _odd. _

There were marines on it, setting up a network of defenses. Survivors from the _Pillar of Autumn _had already started to dig in here. At least twenty of them. Tree trunks were stacked into place surrounding the structure on the ground to set up a perimeter. It wasn't much, just a rag tag set up, but it was better than nothing. Three of the marines were heading my way, their boots crunching in the crisp grass. They were coming to check out the crash. The FOF tags on my radar read out PVT. Larry Jasper, SGT. Marcon Bowing, and PVT. Anna Baker. A trio of troops with a look of hope in their eyes. No doubt they were glad to see some back up. I could relate to them. Every warrior went through the feel of being outnumbered. It was inevitable in the Human-Covenant war.

"Man, it's good to see you." A mahogany colored marine spoke up as they approached. The insignia on his armor signalled that he was the Sergeant. He was young, but his eyes expressed a lot of experience. I figured that he'd been in a situation like this before. He looked past my shoulder, back at the pod. "You the only one?"

"Negative. Give me a sitrep." I told him as I turned back to the escape pod. I still needed to get Linda out of it. I slipped my assault rifle onto my back and went to pick her up. He started to talk as I did so.

"We're all that's left of 2nd platoon, Charlie company. 28 of us in total. Five wounded. We hit down here a little while ago and got into a heavy engagement with Covenant ground troops." He told me as all three of them watched as I lifted Linda out of the pod. They clearly weren't used to seeing fully armored spartans in bad shape. I wasn't either. The only spartan that I'd actually saw die up close was Kat. She died right next to me and it'd frightened me. That was the first time I've ever held a lifeless spartan, and that's what made her death so much more drastic than the others.

"We lost a lot of people in that fight, too." Private Anna said. I could hear the fear in her voice as she said that. They'd witnessed a lot of tragedy in the past hour. They probably felt that they couldn't escape the fight no matter what happened. From one battlezone to the next. Thick locks of dirty blonde hair hung down over her face. I guessed her age at maybe 19. Young people fighting a war that has been raging since before they were even born.

"Yeah." Marcon said, clearly agreeing with her. The other marine, Larry, kept quiet. "We've been trying to get some type of defense set up. The Covenant haven't come back, but we know it's only a matter of time." Marcon's words hung in the air. They went silent when he said that. It was obvious that they were afraid. I walked past them, carrying Linda. There was nothing in the pod that was worth scavenging, so the marines trailed close behind me. Large tree trunks lined the ground around the large construct. All eyes were on us as we made our way to them. Marines sat huddled down behind the logs, waiting. Waiting for an attack to come. Nobody spoke as I marched by them and headed up the ramp to the upper balcony.

It felt as if I was stepping on solid water. The material that this thing was built out of felt extremely smooth. It was solid, but felt soft. I couldn't hear my footsteps as I walked. I stepped onto the upper balcony and took a quick look around. More marines were nestled up here, taking cover behind walls that lined the edge of the balcony. Battle rifles were aimed down below to spot any Covenant, but the eyes were all on me. There was a small huddle off to the far side with wounded laying around. A pair of medics tended to them, rushing to ease their pain. I walked to them and gently placed Linda on the floor. It was a crude arrangement, but it was the best I could do. There were no medical tents out here. Just a collection of wounded ushered off to the side.

I backed away from them and turned around to face Marcon.

"It's not much, but we're doing the best we can here. Most of our medics got killed in the earlier firefight."

"Who's in charge here?"

His face changed slightly, and so did Anna's and Larry's. "I am. Our _el-tee _got hit as soon as we dropped in." They looked at me. I could tell that they'd been close to their lieutenant. "There's nothing left of him. A fuel rod cannon round caught him dead center."

"I can't believe he's gone." Anna said quietly. A spray of freckles covered her face, adding more detail to her young features. Larry still didn't speak.

I took another look around. The line of sight was much better on top of the balcony, and I could make better sense of the place. It looked like we were in a hilly area. Miniature mountains rose up in the distance, each one straining to see past the other. Green was everywhere. Trees covered the place. Far off, I could see a lake resting peacefully. Everything looked like a vacation resort. _What is this place? _It was a beautiful landscape, like a painting. The sky was tagged with an occasional cloud. I could see across the entire ring if I looked directly up. A thin stretch of some type of metal, barely visible, stretched from left to right. The thin stretch got bigger and bigger as I followed it with my eye, until I was looking directly to my right at the side of the ring. It was hard to believe that we were sitting on a round circle.

"What about communications?" I asked, turning to Marcon. He looked over his shoulder and frowned as if he was trying to see something that wasn't there.

"Our radio guy is trying, but uh... I think that's a no go." He said. I ran a calculation through my head.

The Chief would have to come to us. There wasn't enough marines for us to move effectively. From what I've seen so far, the Covenant down here mean business. We wouldn't stand a chance if we tried to move. Plus, we had wounded, including a spartan. That would slow us down and hinder us even further. Even still, I didn't know where to go. This place looked familiar, but I've never been here before, definitely. It all looked man made. If we attempted to get to some place safer, like high ground, I doubted that we would make it there. We would have to be lucky to get there without getting contact with Covenant. Even if, chances were good that the Covenant already had the high ground. We would end up being the ones on the attack. The result would be a slaughter. Marcon, Anna, and Larry wouldn't last a minute. They would die in a blaze of plasma. Jackal snipers would be taking heads off. I came to the conclusion that we needed to stay put for the time being. It was our best bet.

"All right. Make sure everyone is prepped and ready. We don't need to be caught with our pants down." I told Marcon. He nodded slightly. I pointed to a spot on the front side of the balcony. "Get a machine gun right there. That'll give 'em the best line of sight and give us the best advantage. It can cover everything in a wide degree." I told him. He sent Anna off to do the errand work. "Who's your best shot?"

"Larry." He said quickly, nodding towards the short marine standing next to him. Larry was stocky and had a burn mark on the side of his face. A grim and determined look was settled on him. To me, he looked more like an ODST than a marine regular. Probably went out for the training and dropped out of it. That was how it worked most of the time. You don't usually find people who legitimately want to become an ODST. You find people who go out for ODST school to see how long they last. It's designed to make you fail. Looking at Larry, I figured that he was one of the many drop outs. "He's the best shot in the comp'nee."

"Give him a sniper rifle with as much ammo as you can find. Jasper, you need to post up on the back side of this thing." I said, referring to the structure we were standing on. A large bare hill was at the back, putting a stop to anything coming from that direction. Covenant troops wouldn't lumber down a hill that size. Even still, there was little to no cover. If they foolishly came down that way, it would be open season for us. "Looking at the terrain, I can just about say for certain that they won't come from that way. Too open. Too risky. You'll have the best protection and sight if you go to that end. Your back will basically be against a wall, and you'll be able to cover everything. Go back there. Do it." I told him. He nodded without speaking, and left with Marcon to go and grab the sniper. I would be on the ground, in the heat of the battle, where I belonged. I know that my aim is better than anyone else here, by an extremely large margin, but I'm the only able spartan here. It's not my position to be sitting back where it's safe, picking off targets like I was bird hunting. I could snipe, but that isn't what I like to do. My element is the center of the battlefield. Jun used to love sniping, and claimed he was the best. Rumor had it that Linda made him look like a regular rifleman.

I stepped over to the edge of the balcony and leaned over the protective wall, standing next to a marine. Most of the terrain was woodland. Large trees stood proud in the mist of green. Bushes sat down next to them, swaying lightly with the breeze. There weren't any animals that I could see, but it looked as if there should be some. The place looked like a campground. The marines had a loose perimeter stretching around the 'base'. They were dug in behind huge tree trunks that lay flat on the ground. I counted 13 on the ground. That left about 10 able marines posted up on the balcony where I was. The rest of them, five to be exact, were wounded. The numbers didn't look good. But I wasn't interested in numbers. I was interested in Covenant tactics. I ran a calculation through my head.

I figured that they wouldn't send a lot of elites. As far as the Covenant knew, I wasn't here. In their perspective, the only thing here is a rag tag group of marines. No real sweat for them. They wouldn't throw a bunch of elites at us because they would deem it a waste of resource. This was a fight that was beneath the elite's paygrade. At worst, they would send a few minors. The rest of the assault would be mainly grunts, with some jackal support. That was both a good thing and a bad thing. The good part about it was that we wouldn't have to contend with hunters and brutes. We didn't have the firepower to take on hunters. Brutes were too powerful and mean, and would easily rip through the thin line of marines. The bad part about this ordeal was that we would be facing grunts. The little squat suckers might be small and punkish, but that didn't mean that they were ineffective. The stories about battles against hundreds of grunts were true. Every time the Covenant sent them in an assault, they always guaranteed that the UNSC forces would be outnumbered. We were looking at 75+ grunts, easily. Tack on about 20 jackals with that, and you've got a serious attack on your hands. I don't care what the size of the UNSC force is, they always sent in a wealthy number of grunts.

I could see the marine standing next to me in my peripheral vision. I looked at her.

"We're gonna be alright with you here." She said. Her black hair matched the color of her eyes. I could tell that she was nervous. Combat jitters was very common. Especially when you're outnumbered and outgunned. But I could also tell that she was definitely glad to see me. It was obvious.

I didn't say anything.

"I can't believe this place. I don't know how we ended up here." She told me, looking out at the forest in the distance. "From Reach to this place. What do you think?" She asked. I thought about what she said. We hadn't been gone from Reach hardly any time before the Covenant caught up with us. It was a brief period of 'peace', before we were back into the fray with Covenant again. This time, I have to fight along side traditional UNSC forces. It's a big change of pace from the usual spec ops. I usually don't speak to regular UNSC troops often. Most of the time, I'm alone, except for my brief membership of Noble team. I could see why this marine felt relieved to have me here. Would I still be alive if I wasn't a spartan? To them, I was a legend. I didn't feel like one. But I stopped thinking and feeling, and decided to answer her question.

"I have a feeling that we're not supposed to be here, on this ring. This place isn't supposed to have a war raging on it. Covenant didn't build this thing." I said. "We could be walking on a hidden weapon, for all we know." I told her. Her nameplate said Jennson Carlisle. Another name in a sea of them serving the UNSC. A name that had a story behind it, like all the others.

"A hidden weapon." She repeated. Her voice sounded light, like the sound of the ocean at night time. I looked over my shoulder and saw the machine gunner setting up on the front of the balcony. He was loaded down with as much ammunition as possible. The machine gun was a heavy one, like the one that Jorge carried around. Except his was an even heavier model. Those things felt worse than being rammed by an elephant. They could tear a warthog apart. Death was certain, wherever this thing was. They made the older models, 50 rounds per second models, look like pea shooters.

I looked forward again, facing the distant forest, and took my helmet off for a moment. I couldn't remember the last time I'd taken it off. The constant breeze of wind caught my dark black hair and shuffled it slightly. It was cool and felt amazing. The air smelled clean and refreshing. This place was incredible. It was like a perfect artificial world. I slipped my helmet back on and secured it.

"Well, if Covenant didn't build this, then I wonder who did. They might be more peaceful than Covenant, don't you think?" Jennson asked me. She was right. The thought of another collection of aliens out there somewhere was unpleasant, but I couldn't imagine the creators of this ring being a violent species. The place had a natural feel to it that I didn't understand. It felt... Comfortable.

Before I could reply, the hum of engines in the distance caught my attention. A strong, powerful sound that carried weight. It was getting louder by the second. I looked into the distance and made out a trio of black dots flying past a hill. I had reason to believe that they weren't UNSC ships. Couldn't be. The pelicans had gone down to the surface early, transporting crewmen and wounded. There had been a lot of those two. They didn't have time to organize a squadron of three pelicans to search for survivors. Even if they mounted a search, they wouldn't send three pelicans in a group. Pilots were trained to spread out. You don't send several pelicans to search one area. You only needed one to scan a certain zone. Another thing was that all three of them were headed straight towards us, in a perfect formation. That doesn't happen in a search. What are the chances of the searchers to head directly towards your position? It's not like we popped flares. The UNSC didn't know where we were. Our radio is out, so I know that the marines couldn't have gotten conact with anyone. I haven't picked up anything on my comlink yet, either. That brought me to the conclusion that a Covenant force was about to hit us head first. Below, on the ground, a marine yelled out.

"Covenant! We got company, look alive!" The marine shouted. People were running to their positions, getting set up and prepared. The machine gunner guy was locking and loading, and had a hard set look on his face. I figured that he was ready to die, if it came to that. Jennson picked up her BR55 from the floor next to her aimed at the enemy formation. I magnified the zoom in my HUD 10x to get a better look. Three phantom drop ships with door gunners on either side of all of them. Those would have to go down, quick. Their plasma cannons could wipe out any cover. I couldn't see on the inside of them, but I assumed that they were packed. When in doubt, expect the worst. That was something that we'd been taught way back in training.

I resetted the magnification of my HUD and pulled out my assault rifle. I needed to get down to the ground. From where I stood on the balcony, I could see Anna rushing to take cover behind a large boulder sticking out of the ground. Marcon was dug in next to a pair of other marines, slapping a fresh clip into his MA5B. I hoped that the sniper was in his right spot. He would be a key factor in this battle. Marcon seemed like a strong guy. He would also be an important factor. I could tell by the way he carried his self that he was seasoned. This was going to be a nasty fight. The drop ships were getting closer, moving at top speed. I jogged to the ramp that connected the balcony to the ground and ran down it. The familiar sense of adrenaline swooped into me all at once. It was a consuming feel, like I was trapped inside a mist of it. We have to take this war one flight of stairs at a time. Each battle was a single step. This step was going to be fairly higher than the others.


	5. Chapter V

**The Ghost of Noble Six.**

**Chapter V.**

_It's progress, until there's nothing left to gain._

* * *

Mom had always said that the key to making the right decisions was to use both my mind and my heart. This is a message that is fairly clear in my memory of her. It's hard to recall those things of my civilian life. I don't remember what going out and buying groceries meant. I don't even remember what it means to have a family. The only thing I know is military. But that saying has stuck with me through all these years. At the time, I didn't understand what she meant by it. It slowly unraveled its mystery to me as I worked my way through boot camp. That was a message that she lived by. If only I'd been faster and stronger, she would still be alive. I hadn't been quick enough. The nightmares still haunt me as I remember my younger self shaking with fear, not being able to operate efficiently. It'd cost us some valuable time. Crying had taken away my coherent thoughts. It eventually let to my mother having to make a decision. And the price was her life.

If only I could go back in time to change things. I could redo some of my foolish decisions.

But right now, I was making a life or death choice.

A large plasma blob soared through the air, heading straight toward me. It flew above the head of a marine that was crouching behind a boulder. I rolled out of the way in time, and it melted into an even larger rock that was behind me, sizzling away at it for a few seconds. It was a close call, but not close enough. I fired at the grunt who'd shot it, killing him with a barrage of hot lead. Behind that grunt was another trio of them, and I sent a wave of rounds at them. They were peppered with the bullets, spewing their sickly colored blood and collapsing to the ground. Above, I could see the door gunner of a phantom taking aim at me. I'd picked up some attention. The superheated plasma plunged towards my direction. My shields took a few hits. I sprinted with my head down as the plasma tried to catch up with me. The sound of battle rifle fire pierced the battlefield, and I took a quick glance up to see the door gunner falling towards the ground. A three round burst, center mass. The grunt was dead before it hit the ground.

I took cover behind an upright tree and reloaded. The firefight was a leveled field. Covenant on one side and UNSC on the other. Teams of grunts and jackals were steadily gaining ground on us. Most of the field was wooded, except for the fairly open ground surrounding the immediate space of the alien structure. We had a loose perimeter set up, but it wouldn't hold for long. The machine gunner would have to get greedy once we were puhed back far enough. Looking past the crossfire, I could see Marcon with a group of marines, shouting out orders and directing fire. He had a leveled head in an intense battle like this one. The guy would've made a decent spartan. In the center of the crossfire, I could see a marine get riddled with plasma fire.

I couldn't hear his scream.

The sniper rifle went off, taking out a target that I couldn't see. I went out from behind the cover of the tree. A pair of jackals were pressing forward and I fired at them in 5 round bursts. Their shields withstood the fire, though. Plasma bolts slammed into the trees around me, chipping off pieces of wood. I strafed to the right, moving past a fat tree and back into their line of sight. A plasma bolt struck me in the chest, dead center, and it felt as if I'd been punched by a brute. It caused me to stagger backwards a little, and my shields fell to 38%. I shook the blow off and aimed at their legs. They tripped up and fell, exposing their defenseless bodies. Deadly mistake. They collapsed under my hail of gunfire, screeching in pain and shock. Bullets filled their corpses.

Again, the sniper rifle sounded off, killing an unlucky Covenant trooper. Larry was on point. Rounds from the machine gunner began to pour in, suppressing the Covenant. Another pair of marines were destroyed by a fuel rod cannon round. The magnificent blaze of plasma was blinding, and my visor instantly polarized. It was over in a flash, and the ground trembled with after effects from the explosion. Looking to my right, I saw the grunt carrying the fuel rod cannon. It aimed at the machine gunner. Just before it fired, a sniper round caught it in the head. The round tore completely through the grunt and it died immediately.

I took cover behind a tree, primed a frag grenade, and tossed it into the grunt ranks. It bounced off of a tree and rolled into the center of a group of them. They scattered like ants, desperately trying to get away. It blew up, the sound of a violent explosion mixed with alien screams. Across the field, Marcon was pushed back against the structure. I could tell that he'd taken some casualties, but not how many. The perimeter was broken. Marines were struggling to find a place to take cover as heaping waves of plasma rushed at them. The Covenant were steadily gaining ground. An elite minor was approaching, barking off orders to his grunts. I aimed and fired at him. Bullets clapped into his energy shields and his attention snapped to me. It growled when it spotted me. I kept up the barrage, hammering it with 7.62mm. The elite dodged out of the way, rolling off to the side, and I tracked it's movements.

It stood up and fired a plasma repeater at me. I ducked behind the tree as hot plasma struck into it. Pieces of wood showered around me. My radar tracked it as it moved off to the side, trying to draw a bead on me. The machine gunner opened fire, aiming at the elite minor. I leaned around cover and saw the elite get slammed with lead. It crumpled to the ground in a heap, covered with blood. It raised it's weapon and fired off a pair of bolts before dying off. Their commander was down now. The grunts were in disarray, some of them running, and some of them freelancing. It was a good thing for us. Looking past the elite, I could see a squad of jackals pressing a group of marines. The marines were returning fire, but it bounced harmlessly off of their wrist shields. A fat blob of plasma erupted from one of the jackals and struck a marine in the arm, burning it off completely. The marine fell to his knees, screaming. I aimed and fired at the jackals, hitting them from the side. Sniper rounds crashed into their shields from the other direction, suppressing them completely. My ammo counter hit zero and I reloaded.

Their phantom support was gone now, having withdrawn from the battlefield. Grunts and jackals were the only things left. The battle was nearing its end. A trio of plasma rounds struck me on my side, hammering my shields and throwing me off balance. Stumbling, I immediately turned to my right, aiming frantically, but didn't see anything. For a brief instant, I was confused. There were no Covenant troops that I could see, and there wasn't any movement on my radar. But then I caught a shimmer of dirt and air, a slight movement, and realized that an elite spec ops trooper was using active camoflauge. I dived to the right, just in time to avoid a deadly round from a plasma rifle. It moved fast, getting in hand-to-hand range of me, and as I stood up, it knocked the assault rifle from my hand with a hard swipe. I threw a punch but hit nothing but air, and caught a blow to my ribs, knocking the breath out of me.

I shook my head to clear my vision and focused. There was a shift in the air as the invisible elite moved, and I ducked down quick. The blow brushed off of me, draining my shields by a small margin, and I used my momentum to roll out of arm's reach. There wasn't time to waste. As I stood back up, my radar picked up the movement of the elite as it strafed to the side. There was a sharp hiss and crackle as an energy sword materialized out of thin air, and the elite's invisibilty went away all together. It's armor was dark black, with a violent cut running across it's chest armor plating. Another scar marked the side of the elite's 'face', and I immediately realized that I was dealing with a veteran. In all of my experience, I've only dealt with energy swords a few times. The station back on Reach, my first mission with Noble team, was one of those times. I knew that they weren't to be trifled with.

I reached for my pistol, whipped it up, and fired it. The thing was like a hand cannon almost, kicking violently in my hands. Fat slugs slammed into the elite, and it growled. It sounded like a strain of pure evil. It's shields failed miserably, and the elite dashed forward, right into my face. I reacted just in time, leaning back to avoid the deadly swipe of the blade as it sliced the air right were my neck had just been. Heat from the sword cut off my already drained shields. The elite lunged forward for a straight stab, and I side stepped it, grabbed its arm as hard as I could, and twisted. At the same time, I brought my knee up and landed a blow to its chest. The elite howled in pain and head butted me, causing me to release my grip and stumble backwards. Black dots marked my vision and I couldn't see straight. My head felt like it'd been shaken violently for hours.

The elite put a hand over it's chest, looking down at the blood spilling from the bullet wounds. It looked at me and spread its 'mouth', releasing a low growl, and charged off in the opposite direction. The elite raced through trees, flashing back into a state of partial invisibility, and left the battlefield. Bushes and shrubs shimmied aside as it violently knocked them out of the way. I shook my head to clear my vision. Luck had just saved me. If that elite hadn't run off, I would've been dead, no doubt. My ribs felt cracked, but I knew they weren't. My neck felt blistered from the proximity of the energy sword. And my head hurt like hell. I didn't have the luxury of taking a rest when I'm hurting. The battle was still going on. I ran over to my assault rifle, picked it up, and turned my attention towards the fight.

The grunts were 'routing', and so were the jackals. Both sides were worn down, considerably. The remaining marines started to cheer as the Covenant forces withdrew from the battlefield. Bushes swayed as fleeing grunts sprinted through them. It was over, for the time being. Everything was tagged with plasma burns, marking the whole field with dirty black spots. I was running low on ammo, and I'm sure that the marines are as well. Trees were blown down from the force of explosions and branches were thrown about everywhere. I headed towards the structure where the rest of the marines were, stepping over dead jackals and grunts. Sickly colored blood spilled over the ground. My shields recharged slowly and gloomly.

The marines looked battered and broken. Their spirit was dwindling. Blank faces stared back at me as I walked amongst them, wondering what the next move would be. I could feel the sense of fear in them, and it felt all too familiar. Marcon was sitting on the ground, resting his back on the structure itself, catching his breath. An empty MA5B lay on the ground next to him, but his sidearm was in his hand. I crouched down next to him.

"What's our count?" I asked him, looking around at the marines as they regrouped. From the corner of my eye, I could see him shaking his head slowly.

"Down to 12 of us able to fight."

"Regroup everybody, check ammunition, and scavenge for supplies. We have to survive here. You need to get anything you can from the dead." He looked up at me, his eyes showing a hint of dread.

"Aye, sir."

I saw Anna leaning against a large bolder that was sticking out of the ground. Those same thick locks of dirty blonde hair were still spreading over her face. She wasn't having an easy time dealing with the situation. The sooner you realize the laws of warfare, the sooner you'll operate like a warrior is supposed to. There are no winners in war. Only survivors. We hadn't truly won here. This thing was just getting started. Nobody is guaranteed survival in war, especially spartans. I'm the only man standing from Noble team. John is probably the last of the Spartan II's, other than Linda. The lucky ones are the guys who live through it all. But seeing what the horrors of war can do to a person, it makes me wonder who is truly the lucky one.

No matter. I stood up and held out my hand for Marcon. He looked at it, then looked at me and hesitated. I understood. He was rising from the ground, but so many others wouldn't be rising. He'd been here before, but not often. Marcon wasn't used to coming so close to death, I could tell. His assault rifle had run out of ammunition, and he'd been forced to use a pistol. I take my hat off to him. Not many men could command under such pressure.

Marcon took my hand and I helped him to his feet. We faced the direction that the Covenant had run off to. The cycle was repeating itself once again, and every time it does, you get one step closer to death. You fight, you wait, and then you fight again. The ground was littered with bodies, and the marines were trying to gather their dead. Or, what was left of them.

"I'm glad you're here." Marcon said.

"We're in this together." I told him.


	6. Chapter VI

Just a small event in the life of Noble Six.

**The Ghost of Noble Six**

**Chapter VI**

_Do you ever get lonely?_

_Only around people._

* * *

Many Years Ago...

I sat in the back of the class room, tapping my pen on my desk, watching the rest of the class. A window on the right side allowed a fresh spill of sunlight to come in, adding light to the already brightly lit room. Desks were lined up in perfect rows facing the front of the room where the teacher was busy writing a math problem on the board. The other kids either had their heads down or were paying half-attention to the teacher. There was a light chorus of chatter as some of the other students spoke to each other, laughing at jokes that I didn't hear. The teacher, Ms. Randall, finished her furious scribble across the front board and turned to face us. She stepped off to the side and waited for the chatter to quiet down and die away.

"Now, does anybody know the answer to the problem?" Ms. Randall asked, gesturing to the board.

The class was silent.

"Anybody?" She asked, searching for someone to call on. I slowly raised my hand.

"Yes, in the back?" She was eager to hear my answer.

"Is it 15?" I asked.

A smile spread across her face and she wrote the answer down on the board and circled it. I'd run the calculation through my head as she was writing it. Ms. Randall began to explain the answer to the rest of the class, and my mind drifted off. Her voice became background noise as I began to think intensely. I wanted to get home fast today. They'd been advertising the premiere of the 3rd season of Mighty Crushers, my favorite cartoon, and I didn't want to miss a second of it. The only problem was that I'd have to wait around after school because of detention. I'd earned myself detention for an entire month because of fighting, and I hated it. School wasn't meant to drag on longer than it was supposed to. Stupid school. I hate detention with a passion. They make you sit down quietly for a long time to punish you. If only that Jeremy guy had shut his mouth when I told him to. I wouldn't have had to knock him out like I did. Now I was going to miss Mighty Crushers. I balled up the sheet of paper on my desk and shot it into a trash can against the wall.

The bell was about to ring, and everybody began to gather their stuff to leave. Ms. Randall started to speak over the sound of backpacks being zipped up and books being closed. Don't forget your homework. Study over the weekend. Test on Monday. Her voice was overshadowed by the ringing of the bell and the loudness of students rushing to leave the room. I stayed in my seat and watched the thick mob of students press out into the halls and beyond. If I didn't have detention, I would've fought my way through that crowd, rushed to my sister's classroom so that we could walk home, and then got away from the school as fast as possible. The class emptied out in record time. I sat there, waiting for my detention assignment. Sentences probably. There was another student staying after as well.

Ms. Randall walked over to my desk and I sat up in my seat.

"Now, just why do you have detention?" She asked, but she already knew the answer. She wanted me to confess my sins. Make me admit that I messed up. Her young features were lit up by the light from outside.

"Because he made me mad." I told her.

"You shouldn't let people get to you like that. You're smarter than that. You need to learn how to ignore people."

"I tried, but he still made me mad. So I hit him." She looked at me with a slight frown on her face.

"You can't go around getting angry and hitting people."

"He asked for it." I said in defense, crossing my arms over my chest. Ms. Randall sighed.

"Someday, you'll learn that violence doesn't solve anything. But today, you're going to sit in here and think about what you've done." She told me, and then headed towards the other student in the room.

I balled up another sheet of paper and shot it into the same trash can. Sitting there frowning, I thought about what she'd told me. He didn't shut up, so he deserved to get hit. Stupid fool. Ms. Randall was wrong about her ideas. I _can _go around hitting people if they make me angry. Jeremy had been bothering me all week long, and every time I'd told him to shut his mouth. But his mouth wouldn't close for some reason. He'd joked about me, calling me a punk in front of everyone. So I made him cry in front of everyone. It felt good to hit him as hard as I could, even though it scarred my knuckles. He'd fallen to the ground immediately and I'd kicked him in his gut several times. A smile spread across my face when I thought of that. It's the fourth time that I've gotten in trouble for fighting.

Ms. Randall walked to her desk, took out a test paper, and handed it to the other student. It was the girl called Katie, and I figured that she must be here to make up the test from Thursday. I could tell it was her from looking at her long hair. Katie talked too much. She always sat down by me at lunch, asking questions and talking all the time. I don't know why she always messes with me. She needs to find somebody else to speak to. During recess, she always follows me around. Whenever we play hide and seek, I always find the best spot, and she's always there to ruin it. I tell her to be quiet, but she always has to find something to say, getting us caught.

Maybe I have the wrong opinion of Katie. Maybe I don't. The next time she opens her mouth, I'll try to talk to her. It couldn't hurt, could it? Maybe that would get her to leave me be. Ms. Randall sat back down at her desk, looking down, and began writing furiously as she graded papers from earlier. Katie turned around in her seat, smiling. I watched her, wondering what she was doing. She waved at me with a big grin on her face, and I did a slight wave back. It was tempting to tell her to turn around and shut up, but I was bored. So I made sure that Ms. Randall was occupied with grading papers, and then grabbed another sheet of paper from my notebook, except I didn't shoot it into the trash this time.

_Hay, rite down the prohblims on this and I'll rite down the anserrs to thim. Make sher that Mizis Randahl don't see you okay? Hery up._

I wrote that on the paper. I folded it into a crisp paper airplane, a model that a buddy of mine showed me how to make. Checking one more time to make sure that Ms. Randall wasn't looking, I threw the airplane to Katie. I was afraid that Ms. Randall would see us, but she didn't. Kaite caught it, looking at it with interest. She opened it up and read it. I watched as another smile lit her face. She began to write down the math problems from the test, and I waited patiently. Looking out the window, I could see the school grounds as they began to clear up. Those students would be able to get home on time, unlike me. Everybody would be talking about Mighty Crushers next week, and I wouldn't know anything about it. Dangit. I've been waiting on this day for weeks. Stupid detention.

I turned my attention back to Katie as she refolded the airplane. She made sure that Ms. Randall wasn't watching before she threw it back to me. Her awkward girly throw forced me to lean out of the seat to catch it, nearly knocking my notebook on the floor and alerting Ms. Randall. I snatched it out of the air and opened it up, examining its contents. 35 math problems were written down in big, loopy, girly handwriting. I got to work on them, running several calculations through my head at once. The work was easy for me, compared to my peers. Almost too easy. I figured out several answers at once, writing them down next to the problem. When I finished, I wrote another note on the plane.

_Your luky that I am hear becuzz you wudd fell and mak an F if it wuzzint for me. But its okay thoh. I hop that you past it, cuzz I mite got sum of them rong but I dont theek so. becuzz I am gudd at it so gudd luk._

I rechecked my crazy handwriting, looking over the sentences and problems, and then refolded the paper. Katie was waiting for me to send the airplane back. I double checked to make sure that Ms. Randall was working, and then threw it back to Katie. It bounced off of her hands as she failed to catch it.

Girls. Of course. She snatched it up from the floor quickly and mouthed a silent 'Thank you', and then worked on the test. I'd lied when I said 'I might have gotten some of them wrong'. That was just there to put doubt in her mind, so that she wouldn't feel so secure about getting answers from someone else. But I know that all of them are the right answers. It felt good to help her out on the test, even though it was wrong. I might be in detention, but I'm not a bad student. I frown upon cheating. But for some reason, I felt that it was ohkay to help out Katie. Strange. I don't understand what made me do it, but I don't feel bad about it.

I slouched down on my seat, resting my head against the back wall, and nodded off to sleep, thinking about Mighty Crushers.


	7. Chapter VII

**The Ghost of Noble Six**

**Chapter VII**

_A wise man, in times of peace, prepares for war._

* * *

We didn't have much time left. The clock had been ticking since the beginning, and now it was running short. Covenant weren't used to getting sent back to where they came from. They'd regroup and throw more enemies at us. Looking around, I could see that there was no way in hell that we'd survive another assault like that. The number of marines that were capable of fighting had just about been cut in half. We didn't have much of a choice. I still don't think that we'd make it if we try to move somewhere. It was a situation of 'damned if you do, damned if you don't'. The truth of the matter was that I wouldn't be able to save these marines if we got attacked. All of them would die on my watch. Because I wasn't strong enough to protect us all. I stood on top of the alien structure, trying to think of a way to get ourselves out of the situation.

There was small background noise from the marines as they chatted amongst each other. I could hear distant sounds of warfare. Somebody was catching hell, that was for sure. The sound of a machine gun was distinct and constant. It was a constant reminder that warfare was never far away.

I heard a voice next to me that sounded light, like an ocean at night time or something. That same one that had spoken to me earlier. I remembered that voice. I knew that it was Jennson before I turned to face her.

"What are we going to do?" She asked me. I didn't have a real answer.

"We're going to survive. We have to."

Jennson turned to face me. She was afraid.

"How are we going to do that?"

I didn't have an answer.

"Do Spartans ever get scared? Do _you _ever feel scared?" Strands of dark black hair hung down lazily over her face. She was asking too many questions. She was talking too much. But I could understand why she would speak to me, and I would do the same if I were in her shoes. It'd been a long day, plenty of lives were lost, the ship was shot to hell, and now the idea of survival was hanging by threads. Yes, I would also ask the spartan what to do. The problem with the question was that I wasn't sure if I should answer truthfully or not. Only a fool goes into battle without being afraid. If I said that I was scared, it would probably lower morale.

"Yes. Anybody out here who says that they aren't afraid is either a liar, or dead. But we're going to make it out of here. Trust me." I said to her. Jennson closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh. I noticed that her fingers were small and delicate, like a baby's. It was a strange thing to note, and I don't exactly know why I did. Strange that a marine would have beautiful hands like hers.

Out in the distance, I heard the faint roar of a pelican's engines. My attention snapped to it immediately, and I magnified the zoom in my HUD. Barely above a stretch of trees was a small dot, steadily growing larger. I knew that it wasn't a Covenant drop ship because it didn't have the right signs to be one. There would be more than one if it was Covenant. And it would be flying much faster. The outline of a UNSC pelican got larger and larger and the marines noticed it.

"Hey! 'S That what I think it is?!" A marine shouted from down below.

The commotion began to pick up as everybody spotted the incoming pelican. Cheers began ranging out. Marines began to clap for themselves, excited with joy. I watched as a smile spread across Jennson's face. It was hard to believe. I wasn't cheering like all the others for several reasons. The pelican was open for attack by any AA units that the Covenant had. The most critical part of any mission was the home stretch. Guards get let down, surprises get made, deaths happen. Mission failure.

My comm unit began to crackle and the sound caught me off guard. It felt like forever since I last heard it.

"-419 inbound ... -on my six!" I heard. The transmission was weak, but it was there.

"This is Noble Six of the UNSC _Pillar of Autumn, _send traffic again."

There was a short delay. I magnified the zoom of my HUD further and saw a pair of Covenant banshee fliers tagging the pelican with plasma fire. Shit.

"-Echo 419 inbound- ... -banshees on my ass!"

I reset the zoom of my HUD and immediately turned towards the machine gunner. He saw me approach and the smile on his face went away slowly. "Covenant banshees are in hot pursuit of the pelican. Tell Marcon to get everyone into cover and get ready. Make it quick." The marine scrambled to his feet, looking out at the approaching banshees. A look of terror was on his face. He ran off to spread the news, still staring at the pelican.

I stepped up the machine gun, gripped it firmly, and began to pull on it. I'd seen Jorge do it plenty of times, but the thing wouldn't budge. I'd need the machine gun to take out the aircraft. It was the heaviest thing that we had, and I would be slaughtered if I stayed stationary. Movement was key when fighting banshees. Split seconds are the difference between life and death. I pushed down with my legs and pulled up with my hands. It ripped off with a loud snapping sound, separating from the tripod that held it to the floor. I hefted it with my dominant left hand on the trigger, realizing just how heavy the thing was. Jorge had made it look much easier than it actually was. The weight would throw my aim off a little, but it wouldn't make much of a difference. In theory, the weapon should make small work of the banshees. In theory.

The pelican was much closer now, a dark trail of smoke behind it. My radar had a flurry of motion on it as marines scrambled to find cover.

"I've got two enemy fighters on my six - I need assistance!"

"Listen, Echo 419. Lower your altitude and slow down when you reach our position. I'll take care of the rest."

I estimated about 30 seconds between us and the pelican. If the marines were out of cover, they'd be chewed up by the banshee fliers. We would get strafed, they would knock out as many of us as possible, and then continue hunting down 419. But I had another scenario in mind. By getting down low, the banshees would have to follow 419 to keep in range, getting them within strong distance of my machine gun. It would also leave them with little maneuverability because of the tree tops. Pelicans were built to fly in traffic, but banshees were more suited to do traditional fighter work like strafing and dogfighting. If Echo 419 slowed down like I told her to, then the banshees would most likely follow suit. They were too greedy to pull off and attack and simply fly past 419. They were too smart for that as well. If they did that, then they would be exposed to attack from the pelican. In theory, the plan should work.

My finger rested on the trigger and I loosened my muscles, preparing to evade any dangerous shots if necessary. Plasma rounds began scoring the ground as the banshees were getting closer and closer. They were taking shots at the dug - in marines. As soon as they got within range, I opened fire on the nearest one. The machine gun rattled in my hands with fierce recoil, and I struggled to keep it controlled. Heavy MG rounds began piercing the armor of the banshee, tearing into it ruthlessly. They'd slowed down to stay behind the pelican, and it allowed me to keep a bead on the targets. A wing was blown off and the banshee began to spin out of control, diving towards the ground. It erupted in a ball of blue flames before it crashed, igniting like a sun. Broken debris slid along the ground and tore into the vegetation. I moved my aim to the next banshee, being careful not to hit the pelican, and didn't take my hand off of the trigger.

Plasma shots began searing beside me, heating my energy shields. A couple of rounds struck me and drained my shielding to 68%. I didn't move, and continued pouring round after round into the banshee. Inky smoke trailed it and chunks of it's armor were blown off. The pelican flew by overhead and caused a deep vibration. An explosion ignited the rear of the banshee, tearing it in half right in mid air. There was a slight outline as the elite piloting it was vaporized. Half of the banshee flew off in a random direction, and the other half soared straight towards me at a blinding speed. I dropped the machine gun and bent my knees slightly to evade out of the way, but I was too late.

A huge chunk of banshee slammed into me and sent me flying backwards with it. The breathe was knocked out of me and my vision went extremely blurry. I slid along the alien structure with the huge piece of alien metal crushing me. My energy shields were wiped out absolutely and my HUD was beginning to flicker and fail. Blood dotted the inside of my helmet and it felt as if I were about to die. Without slowing down, I slid completely off the top of the alien structure and plummeted to the ground below. My entire body felt battered to death when I hit the ground and I couldn't move. The large piece of banshee armor fell off as well and landed directly on top of my chest. If I hadn't been given superhuman injections during S-III boot camp, every bone in my body would've been shattered to pieces. My vision faded to black instantly.

* * *

It was a dream, I could tell. Almost like a memory of something that never happened. I was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring out across a vast distance of black emptiness. Death roamed the ground beneath me with the ruins of a great city. Everything felt _dead_. There were no sounds that I could hear. I was staring at a waste land of burning ruins and nothingness. Was I dead? Was I in Hell? On the horizon, I could see great white flashes, like a vicious lightning storm was raging far off in the distance. The flashes of light were illuminating the far off pieces of dead city, and I felt as if I were looking at a graveyard of an entire civilization. It scared me. There was no essence on this world at all - it just felt flat-out blank. Like someone had sucked every bit of life out of it. The only thing that they left behind was the remains of someone's home.

Suddenly, I began to hear whispers around me. As a matter of fact, it sounded like the voices were inside my head, like some weird telepathic move. Frightened, I took a step back from the cliff.

"You..." A clear voice spoke. I shook my head to get rid of it, but I couldn't. "Your journey does not end here" I heard it say. I put my hands to my head, willing the voice to leave me, but it wouldn't. "Your soul may yet be saved from utter destruction. Death awaits those who do not possess the necessary will. Thousands before you have perished." I began to look around frantically, searching for the source of the whisper within me.

The voice trailed off, replaced by the sounds of people that I know. In front of my eyes, I began to see flashes of people. I saw my mother's face, but I couldn't hear her voice. I saw my sister. I saw the faces of Noble team. I saw Marcon. It felt as if I was hallucinating, but I stared at the anomaly that covered my vision. Hundreds of faces flashed before my eyes. I couldn't understand what was happening, and it made me want to hit something. Hit anything. The face of Jennson appeared in front of me. I let out a scream and closed my eyes, falling to my knees.

"You do not belong in the spiritual realm. But you... You have something within you, Coario."

_Coario? Not Noble Six? It's been so long since I've heard that... So much time of being called Noble Six. Noble Six... Noble Six... Not Coario. Noble Six..._

* * *

"Noble Six!"

"I hope he's not dead. Spartans can't die, can they?"

"I don't think he's gonna make it."

"Did you see what _happened_ to him?"

My eyes snapped open and I was looking straight up, lying on my back. A wave of pain seared through me; I was hurting like hell. Blinking to clear the blur of my vision, I recognized Marcon standing above me, along with other marines. They were surrounding me completely, standing over me and watching. All of them. I let out a grunt and winced as a sharp pain cut through my ribs.

"He's ohkay!" The marines were clearly happy to see that I was alive. They were cheering. Marcon extended his hand down towards me and he helped me stand to my feet. I stood in the center of all of them, naturally taking a look around to gather in my surroundings. The half of the banshee that hit me was lying on the ground 5 yards away. Past the marines, I could see a damaged pelican resting in a clearing on the ground. The pilot was walking towards us.

"Gotta say, I can't believe you survived that, even for a Spartan. Damn you're tough." She said, taking off her flight helmet. "Thanks, by the way." The tag on her flight suit read Foehammer.

Marcon extended an assault rifle to me. "I think this is yours, Six." I grabbed it from him. "So, what now?" Marcon asked.

I took a long look around at the marines. "Did anybody get hurt from the banshees?" I asked.

"We're good."

Turning my attention to Foehammer, I stepped past the circle of marines. "Can your bird fly?"

"She's a little shaken, but she'll hold. Ready to get the hell out of here, right?" She asked. I smiled behind my helmet.

"Exactly."


End file.
